Chapter 1762 - 1362: The Art of the Deal_4

"Three years, twenty million US Dollars a year, paid quarterly."

Song Heping read out the key terms.

"The advisory office is set in Elbil, equipped with an independent communication system and security. It has the right to attend Military Committee meetings and express opinions, the right to access non-classified military and intelligence documents, the right to suggest security matters and demand a timely response from relevant departments..."

He flipped to the last page and saw that Old Masoud had already signed and stamped it.

"Chairman Masoud is very sincere."

He put down the contract.

"This internal cleanup and reform affairs need you." Saeed said directly: "Barzani's twenty years of network power is still there. In the army, in the government, in the intelligence departments... they are everywhere, or have interests with him. The Chairman needs a Quick Blade to remove these tumors."

Song Heping picked up the teacup, took a sip of the warm red tea: "I understand your predicament. But I have a question: if I truly act according to the contract, deeply involve in the Kurd people's internal affairs, reorganize the army, cleanse Barzani remnants... will it trigger new backlash? After all, I am a foreigner."

Saeed was prepared: "That's why the contract says 'advisor'. You provide suggestions, our people execute. This way, we leverage your prestige and ability while formally maintaining the legitimacy of the Kurd people handling internal affairs themselves. As for the backlash..."

He smiled, a smile containing a politician's cunning:

"With you here, who dares to backlash? Barzani's twenty thousand troops were crushed in less than two days. Now in all of Illiguo, who doesn't know the name Song Heping?"

The conference room fell silent for a moment.

Outside, the sound of the Green Zone patrol vehicle's engine approached, then gradually faded away.

Jiang Feng looked at Song Heping, waiting for his decision.

Song Heping finally spoke: "I can sign the contract. But there are two conditions."

"Please, go ahead."

"First, I won't be stationed in Elbil permanently. I will send my deputy Jiang Feng as my full representative, with a team to set up the office in Elbil. Jiang Feng has my complete authorization, his opinions are my opinions."

Saeed glanced at Jiang Feng.

The latter, although surprised, tried to remain calm.

"Second," Song Heping continued, lightly tapping the cover of the contract with his fingers: "My focus is not on Kurdistan's internal reforms. Those tasks should be done by your own people. My value is in balancing external forces, ensuring that Kurdistan will not be exploited during this chaos by Turkey, Persia, or any other entities."

Saeed pondered for a few seconds and said: "May I ask why?"

"Because the military reform and political reform of the Kurd people, in essence, have to be done by the Kurd people themselves."

Song Heping spoke directly, "Me intervening too deeply as a foreigner will only have counterproductive effects. What you need from me, is not to personally reorganize the military and cleanse officials, but to let everyone know—Kurd people have my support. That's enough."

He leaned slightly forward, stared into Saeed's eyes and said:

"What the President truly needs is not me the advisor to go to Elbil and meddle, but me as a card, a card that can deter both internal and external forces. He spends twenty million US Dollars a year not to buy my labor, but my name and influence. Am I right?"

Saeed fell silent.

Song Heping's words hit the core.

Indeed, Old Masoud didn't need Song Heping to personally handle specific affairs; he needed Song Heping's "brand," needed to leverage his prestige to intimidate enemies both inside and outside while consolidating his power.

"You are correct," Saeed finally admitted, with a tone of respect: "Then, Mr. Jiang Feng going to Elbil..."

"Jiang Feng will handle daily communication and coordination," Song Heping said: "For truly important matters, I will communicate directly with Chairman Masoud via encrypted lines. This way, it satisfies the contract requirements and avoids issues that might arise from my excessive involvement in internal affairs—a win-win."

Saeed thought for a moment, nodded: "I need to consult with him."

"Please go ahead."

Saeed walked out of the conference room with his phone, gently closing the door.

Only then did Jiang Feng turn to Song Heping, whispering:

"Old leader, me going to Elbil... I'm afraid I can't manage the situation there. The internal relations of the Kurd people are complex, factions are openly and covertly fighting, I'm not you after all..."

Song Heping looked at him calmly: "Do you think Old Masoud really needs us to help him reform? No, what he's paying for is protection, is deterrence. It makes no difference who goes to Elbil, as long as they represent me, Song Heping. You being there simply tells the Kurd people, with my backing, you can proceed with confidence—that's enough."

He paused and continued: "Specific matters will naturally be handled by themselves. What you need to do is participate in the weekly Military Committee meetings, sit there and listen, occasionally say 'Mr. Song agrees in principle' or 'Mr. Song suggests considering'. The rest, eating, drinking, building connections, understanding the ins and outs of Elbil relationships. Understand?"

Jiang Feng suddenly realized: "Understood. I'm just a symbol."

"Yes, a symbol worth twenty million US Dollars a year," Song Heping said: "Tomorrow you'll go to Elbil with Saeed. I'll stay in Baghdad accompanying Samir until the parliament passes the proposal. That's where the real battlefield is now."

Saeed returned, with a relaxed expression: "The Chairman agreed to your conditions. He said that you understand what he needs more than he does."

"Then let's sign it."

Song Heping signed his name one by one on the three contracts.

Saeed also signed as a witness.

The contract took effect immediately.

When leaving the conference room, it was already eleven o'clock at night.

Saeed needed to return to Elbil overnight to prepare for Jiang Feng's reception, while Jiang Feng started contacting team members.

Song Heping managed to find some time that belonged to him, returned to the hotel, took a hot shower, then brewed a pot of Arabic red tea, and walked alone onto the open-air balcony.

The nights in the Green Zone were relatively quiet, but he could still hear the distant traffic sound from Baghdad's city.

Columns of searchlights crossed the night sky, armored vehicles patrolled the streets routinely.

This place claimed to be the safest in Illiguo, but Song Heping knew that the real danger was never on the streets, but in the conference rooms, at the negotiation tables, behind those smiles and handshakes.

The phone vibrated constantly.

The assistant sent a message, showing that more than a dozen new invitations had come in.

The banquet of the Turkey ambassador, the meeting request from the Camel Country business representatives, the cooperation intention from several major oil companies in Illiguo, and even a few international media interview invitations...

Everyone was seeking Song Heping, everyone wanted to establish a relationship with this Oriental man who had just altered the power structure in Northwest Illinois.

This is the treatment of the victor.

Not flowers and applause, but endless banquets, talks, trades, and calculations.

Song Heping stood on the balcony, the night wind blowing his robe.

Tomorrow, he will formally enter Baghdad's power scene.

There, he will accompany Samir through the final steps of the parliamentary process, handle the solicitation of various forces, continue to walk the tightrope between the Shiye Sect, Sunni Sect, Kurd people, and American people.

But fortunately, at least for tonight, he can rest peacefully for a while.

In the distance, the Tigris River glimmered under the moonlight, the city lights stretched endlessly on both sides of the riverbank.

This land had witnessed too many wars, too many betrayals, too many shifts in power.

Barzani wasn't the first to rise and fall here, nor will he be the last.

But at least this time, the victor is him.

Song Heping stood quietly for a while, then turned and left the balcony.

Tomorrow, the game continues.

He is ready.

Bring it on!